


Where the wild things...

by TheTentacleCommander



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Crack, Costumes, Crack, Crack Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack and Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Fluffy Ending, Framing Story, I Don't Even Know, Intentionally Odd, Odd, Old Age, One Shot, Side Story, Surreal, Tentacles, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Weird Plot Shit, dream - Freeform, its just a dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 12:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13235658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTentacleCommander/pseuds/TheTentacleCommander
Summary: Is a loopy dream sequence that takes place during chapter 7 of TSoD. Nemmy has really idealized dreams about Jill (when he isn't dreaming about murdering her brutally). References the children's book 'Where the Wild Thing Are' which is a major influence on TSoD. Also explains Nemmy's use of his battle tentacles.





	Where the wild things...

**Where the wild things...**  
  
Outrunning those humans wasn't very hard. If anything the difficulty was in letting her run. He had stood watching the female dart from his vision. That in itself was so, so hard. Painfully so to just stand there and watch her flee without him.  
  
But he knew that trying to part together would've made the attempt fail. And he would've been angrier at himself if she were to get hurt. This way; this whole situation also taxed his patience with these craven things – only for her.   
  
_Everything for her._  
  
He waited till her vehicle was down the street before he made move to save himself, the chaotic atmosphere allowing his large form to sprint past them all. They trailed him for it seemed hours; they shooting darts that became stuck in trees, him leading them in circles. It was amusing. The weak things were lucky he didn't seriously try and kill them. No, he had more pressing things on his mind.   
  
He held his head to the air, trailing a specific scent down the twisting road.  
.................................................  
  
The near empty van rolled along the winding road with his target inside. As it turned and tried to navigate the near treacherous dirt and gravel road,  he kicked a large branch underneath – just enough to jostle but not damage the vehicle. As expected, the dark female stopped and then exited it to investigate. As she made move to return inside it, she stopped her eyes landing on him; she regarded and understood his unspoken request to board. He could smell her fear but she had reigned it in enough to let him inside.  _This female is a worthy companion. Worth sparing for now._  He silently laid down in the back seat, the luggage stuffed back here making the Tyrant contort into a cramped, tight fit. But this was temporary, he had been inside worse.  
  
As he pressed himself into the tight space, the sharp corner of something pressed against his back calf. A stray tentacle dislodged it, bringing the item to his eye. It was the familiar book that the little so adores drawn in a fanciful style, full of color and monsters roaming its cover. A large finger trailed along the words that ran across the hardcover book.  
  
_Monster_. He had been called that many a time. The term was confusing at best to him: it was flung at him in rage, in fear, in insult, and sometimes even in simple acknowledgment. But it wasn't as much the meaning of the word but the tone...the way she says it makes him feel good. The way she says it with that voice, with her lips... In the end, he could never figure out whether it was a good or bad term. Maybe this book will clear it up for him? He had never truly sat and read for simple leisure before. He was sure the female driving knew where to go...it would be awhile.  
  
So he opened up the text, using it to pass the time.  
.................................................  
  
A small figure wearing a gray fur suit with a crown placed over an open hood ran through the high grass, yelling and smiling brightly. The larger monster chased after the other seemingly in a game of tag. The figure in the costume was covered from head to toe save for the hood exposing her brightly lit face. She ran giggling through the impossibly tall grasses the sun hitting the smaller figure, flecks of light bouncing off the strands of brown hanging past the hood.  
  
He himself wore only his skirt, bare feet touching grass and dirt. The sensation of the thin green under his feet was strange but of minor annoyance as the game as always was underway. She was weaving in and out of the sea of increasingly tall plants, giggling giving away her position. The Tyrant ran, knowing logically he should easily be able to outrun her; but every time he thought he caught up with her she would be feet, yards, miles away even. But there was no frustration here – the chase was always its own entertainment.   
  
_Over here!_  
  
A bemused yell came from one direction. At least he thought. Her voice was so soft here; making the monster unsure as to if he actually heard her or was imagining. But he ran still seeing a shape form amongst the seemingly never-ending grass. Slowly he crouched forward, feeling the warm grass jostle his skirt. The figure was unmoving but looked of a slight build. He moved slower still, wanting to avoid startling her.  
  
As he reached forward, her voice mid-movement laughed:  
  
_Not there!_  
  
The B.O.W. skidded toppling over the shadowy form in front of him. His arms could only lurch forward as they hit mud a second before he landed face first into the shadowed form. Mud coated his face; she had somehow in their chase created this...at least he thought? The tinkle of mirthful laughter reached him, not derisive or mocking. Happiness coated the sound, a tinge to her voice he never recalled her having before. She was happy... but was not currently with him.   
  
_Give up already?_  
  
He rose, but surprising himself didn't feel irritation; if anything the idea of him simply tripping was admittedly funny. But it would've been more if she was here. Where is she? A breeze feather light grazed his side prompting him to run in the direction of the wind. He used a large arm to push the tall grass away from himself; stray tentacles barely able to assist there was so much of it.   
  
This chase wasn't urgent like other times – he knew she wasn't going to run forever, they were playing on their time, not the outside world's.  
  
_You found me yet?_  
  
Large feet ran along the increasingly damp ground, the sun above now fully in the sky denoting midday. The sun gave the land a deep halo of gold, with her innocent laughter filling his senses. He could almost hear her smile in each statement. He barely caught it, the flash of a brown tail; a gold crown peering through the sea of green.  
  
This time he dived forward, hoping to grab her close. Instead, he felt as if the land removed itself from under his feet, the cool of water splashing against him. The Tyrant had landed bodily into a lake the sun reflecting across the clear blue waters. He sank like a rock within the cool water body, too stunned to swim himself up. He felt calmness though as the water did not constrict his breathing. As he felt himself sink deep into the darkening currents he felt small arms ring around him.  
  
_Tag! Oh, wait...it's supposed to be the other way around silly!_  
  
His body decided then to work, the feel of her small arms motivating him to swim upward. His stapled scalp broke the water's surface, feeling her much smaller costumed form against him the water not even dampening her suit. But this and the other strange observations found in this place was of little importance to him.  
  
'Took you long enough,' was softly murmured into his neck; her soft laughter tickling his damp skin.  
.................................................  
  
They sat in a thin patch of grass, looking upon each other as they lay against the other. The soft breathing from each other along with birds announcing the slow dimming of the sun was all that filled their ears. He could only lean back in silent happiness, her warmth curled against him.   
  
He felt her small hands stroking an errant tentacle; he rarely is touched in this way the stroking of them strange but not unpleasant. Thin fingers trailed along one, the feel of the soft skin brushing against what was a rather intimate part of him. The appendages were a part of him; they naturally belonged to him more than the body that he 'wore'. It wasn't that he separated himself from the Tyrant shell his parasitic self roamed in; it was more he was self-aware that he was not 'born' in it. Hence no matter that it and himself were now physically inseparable, he just wasn't so blind as to see it as anything more than his physical avatar.  
  
So no matter what touched him bodily, what he felt through his tentacles just seemed more intense, more sensitive. But the only things he had ever done with them were things of violence, of killing. Actions that meant nothing. But her hands on them...she if anything shouldn't want to touch them. Her fingers pushed through the small holes of the suit trailing along one causing his eye to slit closed. The slow tracing was soothing; he was vaguely aware he was purring in contentment.   
  
Soft hands caused his eye to lid slowly open, her fingers trailing from along his scalp to the stretched skin of his cheeks. The soft quiet was broken by her voice, it holding no malice nor conflict, nor fear. Just comfort coated her very being as she whispered up to him:  
  
'Monsters don't blush you know.'  
  
He could only take her word for it; as the warmth that he felt across his face now had a name. In reply he merely cupped hers, trailing the similar tale tale tinge to her own features.  
  
'Well, I'm special. Queens get exceptions...'  
  
He merely lifted up, his present company trying to twist her way out of her previous statement, only to lean closer, nuzzling into her neck. Teeth carefully grazed along the pale skin, causing her to blush further but she not turning him away. If anything her arms ringed closer to him, the shifting of her outfit's front zipper being drawn downwards heard next.  
  
As he merely held her against himself, soft hands pulled his to the hood of her suit, slowly removing the gold crown that sat atop. 'You should be the King of all monsters. It suits you.' He leaned up to fully look at her, questioning, wondering why she would want to remove it. The monster shook his head. It looked so much more beautiful on her-   
  
'I choose you to take my place. I want to go home without regrets...together.'    
  
The paper crown was slid slowly over his scalp, sticking against a few of his staples. She then grabbed his hands, guiding him to the hood of the costume. The hood slowly fell away, her hair short and brown grazing his face. Lips grazed his teeth, lightly pressing against the other as their hands both pulled her unzippered costume down revealing her nude body.    
  
It was now twilight as his eye landed on her again, fully nude as himself. Both were wrapped in each other's arms with only the glint of the crown upon his head. Her body and his were intertwined like this, not in sexual union; no. This was a union that didn't need that, didn't require that. Just being held was enough. He clutched her tight to himself, tentacles softly coiling around her, only soft breathing and the weight of her head grazing against his shoulder. Both of their hands linked together, the two enjoying this momentary closeness.  
  
_Yes. When this is all over...we will go home. Together._  
  
This was the lingering thought he woke up to as the van approached the lab.

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on dA 2010 as a gift fic.


End file.
